


Stardust

by liketolaugh



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Mythological Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 15:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10879536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: The Sun and the Moon have a love as old as time, but sometimes, Allen worries that eternity is just... too long.





	Stardust

Every morning, the sun rises and the moon sets. Every evening, the moon returns and the sun leaves. This is the nature of the universe.

Allen stood on the peak of the mountain, watching the distant horizon while the wind whipped and blew around him, sending his hair flying around the circlet on his head. Snow crunched and swirled around his feet, and the stars above faded from view as the sky lightened. Behind him, the moon hovered on the verge of falling.

Day was coming.

Allen, the pale Moon, watched patiently for the Sun Court while his own waited behind him, murmuring to each other in the lull.

Finally, Allen caught the first few wisps of the Sun’s golden glow, and he smiled, with cold-flushed cheeks and gleaming silver eyes.

Link climbed into view within a few moments. He looked dignified and regal, even with his bangs flying in the harsh wind. His braided golden hair, shining in the early light, curled around his neck and over his shoulder, and his brown eyes met Allen’s with clear expectation as he came to a halt in front of him. Allen’s smile softened, one hand rising in welcome, and the corner of Link’s mouth twitched up as he dipped his head in return.

The Sun Court was more disciplined than Allen’s; they were silent and steady as they waited, and soon, the Moon Court fell silent as well, and Allen’s smile faded to match Link’s focus.

In the silence, Tewaku, the Dawn, strode forward and took her place between them. She looked at Link, up and down, and then Allen, down and up, and then clasped her hands neatly in front of her and began, voice strong and clear.

“Every morning, the sun rises and the moon sets. Every evening, the moon returns and the sun leaves. This is the nature of the universe.”

Allen, listening with half an ear, kept his eyes on Link. Link, on the other hand, was watching Tewaku, focused and attentive, and Allen suppressed a smile.

“During the day, the world comes alive. The plants grow, diurnal creatures hunt and forage, and people come out of their homes to work and play.”

Tewaku had told Allen once that he liked performing the Rising Sun ceremony; she liked to look over the world and watch it begin to stir, and she felt most at home in the early morning light and the cold. And then she’d said it was the only time she could stand to watch him and Link together, but Allen was fairly sure she was just teasing.

“At this hour I send the nocturnal creatures to rest, and call the birds to sing. Morning has come; let the world wake.”

It was the same routine, twice a day every day, and the only time they had together besides the moments they snatched. Of course, this hadn’t stopped them from being together in the thousands of years gone by, and it never would, but sometimes Allen took the time to wonder.

In the passage of days, it was easy to get lost and forget. But every moment was precious.

Allen caught Link’s eye as the Sun glanced up, and color dusted the other deity’s cheeks. But this time when Allen smiled, Link smiled back faintly, fondness coloring the expression.

“At this hour, I call the Moon to cede power to the Sun.”

Allen pulled his attention from his counterpart to look at Tewaku, who held out a hand to him, expression neutral and distant, with no hint of her playful personality.

Allen dipped his head to her, then reached up and removed the moon circlet from his head and passed it to the Dawn.

The moon circlet was crafted delicately from platinum and set with a shimmering opal; as Tewaku passed it from one hand to the other, silver shifted to shining gold, and the opal to warm amber. When Link bowed to her, she placed it on his head, and he straightened, expression solemn.

Behind Allen, the moon set, and behind Link, the sun rose over the horizon.

Allen bowed to Link, a hand on his heart, and the ceremony ended.

Allen straightened and gave Link a bright smile, and Link smiled back, relaxing now that Tewaku was done. When Allen stepped forward, reaching to twine his hand with Link’s, Link said quietly,

“You seemed distracted today.”

Allen huffed a laugh and pressed a kiss to Link’s hair, murmuring in his ear, “You looked especially stunning this morning.” Then, with a small grin, “You always do.”

Link surrendered a half-laugh of his own and pulled away, turning to face Allen with an exasperated look that completely failed to hide his affection.

“I think you’re just looking for excuses,” Link said wryly, and Allen grinned.

“Well, maybe,” he chuckled, “but that doesn’t mean I’m lying.” He squeezed Link’s hand lightly. “Let me know if you see anything interesting today, won’t you? Have a good _day.”_

He grinned a little at his own joke, and Link rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too.

“I will,” he promised. “You get some rest; the Solstice is almost here, and I know the nights are getting long.”

Allen hummed his agreement and kissed Link’s cheek absently. “I’ll see you later,” he said at last, letting go of Link’s hand and stepping back.

Link nodded at him, and with that, they parted.

* * *

Though the hours were long, caring for the sky wasn’t a difficult job at all – even less after doing it for thousands of years.

During the day, the Sun Court did their work. Link cared for the sun, while Tewaku watched the court. Tokusa, the Clouds, made patterns and storms, and Madarao, the Light, tracked the brightness of the sky. Goushi, the Caretaker, looked after the animals, and Kiredori, the Timekeeper Day, helped Tewaku keep everyone on track.

They took their work seriously, more devoted to it than Allen’s court ever was, so even once he woke he didn’t bother them. That was what night was for.

Instead, he went to talk to Lenalee, the North Star, and Lavi, the Constellation Keeper.

They were sitting together, of course, Lenalee leaning against Lavi’s shoulder while Lavi tangled his fingers in her hair, both of them watching the clouds below in comfortable silence.

Allen sat by Lavi, opposite Lenalee, and let a few moments pass before he asked, abrupt and offhanded, “Lavi, when was the last time you created a star?”

Both Lenalee and Lavi turned to look at him, and Lavi’s eyebrows ticked up, eyes glittering with amusement. Allen guessed he knew already what Allen wanted.

“A while,” Lavi answered after a moment, untangling himself from Lenalee. And then, proving Allen’s suspicions correct, “A gift for Link?”

Allen gave Lavi an embarrassed grin, the color in his cheeks doing nothing to detract from his pleased look. Lenalee gave him a smile as well, the lighthearted glitter of her eyes a mirror to Lavi’s.

“It’s been a while,” she commented, rearranging herself into a more comfortable cross-legged position. Her expression was warm as she asked, “What were you thinking?” _I’ll help_ went unsaid; with Lenalee, it was always a given.

“I was thinking…” Allen hesitated briefly, tipping his head back as he sifted through his thoughts again. About long hours apart, and a relationship spanning an eternity. About the Rising Sun and Moon ceremonies, and all the unplanned memories set between. “A bracelet made of stars and stories.”

When he dropped his gaze again, Lenalee’s smile had softened in understanding, and the amusement had faded from Lavi’s eyes. (The two of them really were eerily in tune with each other.)

“Sounds like a project,” Lavi said lightly.

Allen smiled, just restraining the urge to duck his head. “Thanks, Lavi.”

Lavi gave him a small grin. “No problem, moonshine.”

The three of them spent the rest of the evening like that, sitting together and weaving memories into the tiny starlight beads Lavi made. Allen closed his eyes and remembered a night watching a brightly-lit human town, and a day when they quietly made fun of their friends’ quirks to each other, and helping to get back at Tokusa and Kanda, and he wove them into the beads so Link would always remember, too.

Each one he passed to Lenalee, who strung them together with wind, and then took the next from Lavi, who spun them together and kept up a steady stream of chatter that was mostly fielded by Lenalee.

Finally, they had the completed product, and Lenalee offered it to Allen, looking satisfied. Allen gave her a bright grin and took it.

“Thank you!” he said, not bothering to restrain his delight.

Lenalee smiled back, and Lavi laughed.

“Anytime,” the redhead told him, grinning. “I missed making stars, anyway.”

The day was winding down now, the sky beginning to dim and the sun halfway back down already, so Allen waved to his friends and went to find Link.

Link was where he expected, of course, intently watching the sun as it inched its way toward the far horizon. Even so, he started when Allen approached and turned to face him, curious and expectant. “Allen?”

Allen waved at him with the hand not holding the bracelet, and came to halt beside him, feeling a smile spread across his face without effort. “Hi,” he replied lightly, glancing down away from Link’s puzzled expression. “How’s your day been?”

A smile was tugging at Link’s mouth when Allen looked back at him, soft and amused. “Just fine,” Link assured him, glancing down to the world below. “No one’s climbing the mountains this time of year, of course, but the children are enjoying the snow. You should have been by earlier.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Allen said warmly, and then he reached forward to brush the fingers of his closed hand against Link’s. “I have something for you.”

“Hm?”

Surprise flashed across Link’s face, quickly fading into intense curiosity, and Allen grinned. A moment later, Link’s hand turned against his, the curve of his palm pressing insistently to Allen’s closed fist. After only a bare moment, Allen relented and loosened his grip to press his gift into Link’s hand.

Link’s hand closed around it, and Link pulled back from Allen just slightly to look at what Allen had given him.

Recognition came first, and then a gentle warmth, and then, as Link ran his thumb along the beads and felt the flickering memories that came with it, a slow, budding wonder. Allen’s heart skipped, and he very nearly beamed. Link liked it.

Link looked up at him, not quite smiling but with a bright-wide look in his eyes that more than made up for it.

“You know there will always be more memories,” Link said, quiet.

“Then we’ll make more,” Allen answered without missing a beat or breaking Link’s gaze, eyes wide and half on edge waiting for a verdict. “If we need to, we can make more constellations in the sky to tell our stories.”

Then Link did smile, and tipped forward to close one hand, light and gentle, around Allen’s wrist.

“Thank you, Allen,” he said quietly. “It’s wonderful.”

* * *

When Allen came up over the ridge, to where Link and his court were waiting at the top, Link was wearing the bracelet, and Allen grinned without prompting. Link smiled back quickly, still looking pleased and light.

Allen came to a halt in front of Link and just kept from rolling his eyes at Kanda’s audible scoff. A few moments later, Kanda appeared beside them, and any traces of exasperation or annoyance Kanda might have been showing had been swept away. Though he didn’t enjoy it, the Dusk treated his job just as seriously as Tewaku did.

He stopped between them and crossed his arms. He looked at Link, and then at Allen, and then cast his eyes to the sky in the distance and spoke.

“Every morning, the sun rises and the moon sets. Every evening, the moon returns and the sun leaves. This is the nature of the universe.”

Allen had to make a conscious effort to keep his eyes on Kanda, still buzzing with delight. He could see that Kanda knew it, too, just barely keeping from rolling his eyes in the middle of the ceremony.

Link was smiling, too, a small but enduring thing that Allen wasn’t even sure Link realized was there.

“During the night, the world rests. The stars emerge, the diurnal creatures go to sleep, and people go home for sleep and quiet.”

One of Link’s hands drifted to the bracelet, fingertips brushing the bracelet, and the smile widened, just a little, as the stored memories whispered on the edge of his consciousness again. Allen’s heart jumped again, and behind him, he could hear Lavi break his silence to whisper proudly to Lenalee, who shushed him without conviction.

“At this hour I send the people to sleep, and call the night creatures to do their quiet work. Night has come; let the world rest.”

Allen shifted and cast his gaze over the Sun Court, all looking varying levels of amused. When he caught Tokusa’s eye, the man openly snorted at him, but Madarao inclined his head slightly without changing expression. Allen nearly laughed. Now what did that mean?

“At this hour, I call the Sun to cede power to the Moon.”

Without pausing for thought, Link reached up and took off the sun circlet, giving it to Kanda. Kanda passed it from one hand to the other, changing gold to platinum and amber to opal, and when Allen bowed to him, he placed it on his head, neat and careful, and Allen straightened up.

The moon rose and the sun fell.

Link bowed to Allen, having never lost his smile, and without a second thought, Allen grinned back.

Kanda said ‘che’ and went to yell at Lavi for talking during the ceremony.

* * *

This time of year, when the nights were long and the days were short, Link spent the first few hours after dusk with Allen. The effort to pull through the moon through the sky, with the careful balance of speed and height and strength, was a constant tug of will in his chest, but it was so omnipresent he only paid half a mind to it.

Instead, he kept his hand twined with Link’s while they sat on the edge of the world, watching the stars. The two of them were pressed together lightly, their shoulders bumping and their legs just together.

“I thanked Lavi as well,” Link said, after a moment. “He had a hand in your gift, didn’t he?”

Allen ‘hm’ed in confirmation, not looking away from the stars above. “Yes, him and Lenalee. They’re bound together with wind, not star or moonlight.” He squeezed Link’s hand lightly. “I meant it. I’ll make as many stars as it takes to not forget a single moment.”

He glanced over at Link and found him smiling at Allen, soft and fond, a tint of amusement to the expression but not enough to lighten it. Allen flushed lightly, but smiled back without either shame or repentance.

“Where would you put them?” Link chided without heat, eyes dancing.

Allen let his smile lighten into a grin, and swept his free hand out, gesturing to all of the sky.

“Anywhere,” he said with feeling, silver eyes bright and focused. “They don’t have to be visible from here. I mean… we don’t leave often, but we could. To go and visit them again. All that infinite space out there- Link, that’s more than enough room for an eternity of memories.”

“Our very own memory lane,” Link murmured, but he didn’t look displeased with the idea. After a moment, he leaned over, reaching so his free hand cupped the back of Allen’s neck, bumped their foreheads gently together, and said, “We’ll see.”

Allen grinned again, because really, that meant yes.

Link laughed quietly and drew back, putting the slightest amount of distance between them again, but not bothering to move away properly. “Would you make Lavi look over those stars, too?” he asked, looking back to the sky. “You know he’ll complain if you make more work for him.”

“Lenalee would help him,” Allen offered, eyes sparkling, and Link bumped his shoulder gently. Allen laughed. “Only a little. But really, if no one on Earth can see them, does it matter if they stay together or in place? And the memories are ours, so they wouldn’t need special keeping.”

“We could look after them, you’re saying,” Link concluded, and Allen glanced over. He didn’t look bothered by this idea, either – instead, he looked distant, as if he could already see the light years and light years of memories that would be there.

“…Yeah,” Allen said, after a long moment, unexpectedly soft.

Link’s head tilted slightly in clear contemplation, and Allen could almost see the calculations and measurements and considerations running behind them. And then he bobbed his head, light and quick.

“Certainly,” Link said, just as quiet. “Certainly, we could do that.”

Allen smiled, leaning against Link lightly, and let out a soft, pleased sigh.

“This one, too,” he murmured, and Link pressed a quick kiss against his temple. Allen chose to take it as agreement and let his smile widen, and then they both kept quiet and watched the stars for a while longer.

* * *

When the time came, Link and Allen performed the Solar Eclipse ceremony together.

The stood across from each other on the peak, holding hands, keeping their eyes on each other, each with the same passive-neutral expression they adopted for most ceremonies. Their courts spread behind them, quiet and patient, and behind those, the sun and moon both drifted, tugged along in time with the will of the couple on the peak.

“Every morning, the sun rises and the moon sets,” Link said, voice even and strong.

“Every evening, the moon returns and the sun leaves,” Allen continued, a little softer and a little steadier.

“This is the nature of the universe,” Link completed.

The wind blew lightly around them, much warmer in the middle of the day than in the morning or evening, and the sun’s light danced with the glow Link’s bracelet gave off. Allen didn’t let his eyes linger on it for more than a moment before he returned focus to Link, who, of course, had never lost his.

“But they cannot stay separate forever,” Allen said, the words as familiar as the hands tangled with his, “for the sun and moon love each other very much.”

“Ever so often,” Link picked up, “the sun and moon will meet, either in part or in full. They join together, and for a few minutes, the world has neither.”

“In the end, though,” Allen finished, and he was leaning forward already, weight shifting to the balls of his feet and all of his focus now on his Sun, “they will always come back to the world that needs them.”

Link leaned forward to meet him, and as they kissed, the world darkened around them as the sun and moon came together far above.

It was long and slow and deep, hours and days and weeks suspended in a few minutes.

And then they parted; Allen smiled at Link, Link smiled back, and they let go of each other’s hands.

Far above, the sun and moon passed each other by and continued on their way.

The solar eclipse ended.


End file.
